Final Fantasy X: Auron's Story
by Meronichan
Summary: 10 years before the events of Final Fantasy X, Final Fantasy: Auron's Story tells the tale of Summoner Braska's journey to defeat Sin, told through the viewpoint of one of his most trusted guardians.
1. Auron's Lament

**This prequel to Final Fantasy X will chronicle the adventures of Auron, Braska and Jecht 10 years before Tidus tells his tale. I do not own these characters nor the game in which they appear, however, the entirety of this work is my own. All character rights go to Square Enix / Squaresoft.**

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**AURON'S LAMENT**

This is my story. It's a story that should never have been told, even as it was being lived. It's a story about a 'legendary' guardian, but you'd be better off saying that it is a story of a fool. Then again, you wouldn't be reading this if you weren't expecting it to be foolish.

I suppose you could also say that this is a story about Zanarkand's dream. The Fayth trapped themselves in Zanarkand, dreaming for a thousand years. What did they dream about, you ask? Everything, really. People, places, things. I spent my life surrounded by the dreams made by the Fayth. My own dreams began to take shape around their desires, . . .so much so that I began to wonder what was real. Did I ever travel anywhere that wasn't an illusion? Was the pain I felt yet another facet of this dream? Perhaps so, perhaps not.

But even as a dead city dreamed about what life once was, a living city caught in death's grip dreamed as well. It sent out summoners by the thousands, hoping that they would provide the Calm. The Calm gave the people hope. They prayed that their lives wouldn't be cut short. They reached out towards a future where their faith wasn't deceiving them, leading them down a lost path even as it preached of salvation. Everyone in Spira dreamed of living without fear, of a world in which the monster known as Sin no longer plagued their lives. The summoners gave them that. A fleeting glimpse of such a world was all that they needed. These summoners were Spira's ultimate and most valuable sacrifice.

I guarded one of these treasures as guardians do, my face dour while my heart beat fiercely, knowing what the culmination of his pilgrimage would mean for Spira, as well as myself. Trudging over the paths worn out by summoners of the past, I followed him as blindly as he followed Yevon, as blindly as Spira waded through their sorrow in hope for a better existence.

But my Lord Braska's faith was too powerful. Yevon killed Braska. Braska forfeited his life summoning the final aeon, but in the end his death made little difference. Sin returned, and the cycle continued. But I was not the same. I remained frozen in the past, lost in the spiral of time, torn by my own regret.

Yes, this is my story. It is as insubstantial as hope, and as fragile as a dream.


	2. Facing Fate

**Last Chapter: Auron begins his tale, describing his sorrow and regret over having to recount it. Now we are taken into Auron's early past, and witness the beginning of his sorrowful journey, starting with a curious summoner and his daugter.**

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**FACING FATE**

All good stories begin before the story. Details of a person's upbringing, be them good or bad, are always recounted. The only thing I can say about that is that Sin had been the most continuous thing in my life since childhood. Sin was always there, waiting.

As it had done to many places before, Sin swooped in like an ominous cloud over the village I called home, stealing my parents away. They hid me in the ground as quickly as they could manage, but Sin was upon them before they had the time save themselves. Even as a boy, witnessing their deaths, I knew that my purpose in life had changed. Who knows what I could have been had they not been taken from me.

But it was pointless to think about it. Their journey had been cut short, but I myself was unsure where to go.

And then Yevon found me. Amongst the rubble that was always scattered after Sin visits, they found me. My parents had not been their followers, so I neither felt love for nor hatred towards Yevon. Yet Yevon was as constant as Sin, and just as deadly.

And yet Yevon was all I had. The faith had opened its' arms to me, reaching out to embrace another follower. I was taken by that hand and led towards my new destiny. Yevon hid itself well, showing me the face which it showed to Spira, to the innocent, to those inclined to believe. Yevon had a dark underside that, if revealed, would ruin it.

I was taught with, as were all warrior monks that desired to wage war, a blade as hard as my heart had become. We were forbidden to use machina in the beginning, but slowly the monks began to disobey in favor of the lighter, deadlier weapons still in use by the Al Bhed. The priests turned their heads in disapproval, but they did not step in to stop it.

I did not particularly desire to seek revenge against Sin for my parents. I hated Sin as all hate Sin, but in the end what I wanted was to make myself useful, . . . If not to Yevon, then at least to myself. Though I was better than most in combat, I felt that I needed a purpose for it. There had to be a reason behind it all.

As for the summoners, well, I normally did not pay them much attention, for they were a common sight in Bevelle. I had seen them come and go on their way many times, guardians in tow; some returned, and some didn't.

But a peculiar summoner came to us one day, asking for our graces. His confidence and bright smile gave off the impression that he was well trained, and the fact that he stood before us without guardians convinced us that he was either very strong, or very mad. In all honesty, it was that confidence which drew me to him. How could he be so happy when he knew he was to die?

Maester Mika received this summoner as he had received the others, grinning, for here was yet another sacrificial lamb for Spira.

"Welcome to Bevelle, summoner," Mika addressed the newcomer. They both made the sign of Yevon and bowed to each other, as was custom. "Where is it you come from?"

"I have come from the home of the Al Bhed," the summoner answered. He did not even flinch as he said this. He must have known that Yevon and the Al Bhed were mortal enemies. "I need your prayers and your guidance, for my wife has left this world."

Mika shook his head. He might have inferred that the woman was most likely an Al Bhed as well, yet he said nothing.

"I am sorry for you loss, summoner," Mika said.

"Braska. You may call me Braska, my Lord," the summoner replied. Ah, Braska, so that was his name.

"Yes, Summoner Braska," said Mika. "Am I to believe that you are now on your pilgrimage?"

Braska sighed. "I am afraid that I have yet to begin, my Lord. As you can see, I have no guardians. And of course, there is my daughter to think of."

Braska looked behind him towards the entryway, where another monk and I stood guard to Mika's chambers. In front of us, a young girl of about six or seven stood there quietly. If he had not mentioned her, one would not have even know she was there. She was curious in her quietness. Her eyes, one green and one blue, were a telltale sign of her Al Bhed lineage.

"When I find a safe place for her to stay, I can begin my pilgrimage."

Mika looked to the girl for a moment, and then his eyes rested on Braska.

"Indeed, Summoner Braska. These things cannot be rushed. They must be carefully planned and well thought out. I can see that you are willing to take this heavy task upon yourself, and Yevon gives you our support," Mika crossed his arms. "Perhaps you can find someone here in Bevelle willing to aid you on your journey?"

I looked down at the little girl, whose gaze was fixated on her father in the distance. Despite these strange surroundings, and even though she had no mother to hold her hand, she stood there as erect as Mt. Gagazet. I could tell from the look on her face that she understood this place, all this pomp and ceremony, and what it was her father planned to do. This young girl would lose everything, just as I had lost everything.

Mika and Braska talked a while longer, the girl's gaze occasionally meeting mine, which caused her to look to the side, flustered.

As Braska and Mika parted, Braska came towards his little daughter and put his hand on her head gently, leading her away from me. As I watched them depart down the long corridors, I felt my destiny leaving me. This amiable summoner, his daughter with the eyes of stone, were leaving.

Numerous monks and priests passed me then, but I was waiting for the one called Kinoc. Kinoc was a friend of mine, the type of friend a man makes under the pretext of combat. When I saw him, I called him over.

"Kinoc, a moment. Have you seen the summoner and his daughter?" I inquired. He shrugged halfheartedly.

"Yes, they just passed by me not long ago. Why do you ask? Did you need them for something?"

"I guess you could say that. But I need you as well. Stand on guard for me a while."

"Why should I?" he snorted. "I'm on break."

I was becoming impatient with him, with this. I could almost hear Braska's footsteps going down the runway from Bevelle.

"I'm going to him. I need to go to Braska. The summoner, I need to talk to him."

I rushed off in the midst of Kinoc's protests. Though the weight of the sword at my side slowed me, I did not stop running until I had reached them.

"My Lord! Please, wait!" I called out to him. Both Braska and his daughter stopped, and looked towards me in earnest. I could only wonder what they saw in me then, a crazed monk streaming down the runway towards them.

"Please, my Lord. I must speak with you," I said. My voice almost wavered in my excitement and haste.

"What can I do for you, my friend?" Braska asked me. His little girl looked up at me in wonder.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but I overheard you speaking with Maester Mika. I know that you need a guardian for your pilgrimage." Braska moved closer towards me, his interest piqued.

"And so you have some news for me about this matter?"

"My Lord, if you please," I continued, "I would, . . .I can offer myself, . . . that is, I can be your first guardian, if you will take me."

I had said my part. I looked at him, eyes half-lidded, anticipating his reaction. He moved even closer to me, speaking under his voice.

"You know, . . . that it is dangerous," he told me. He wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into. If he drew me into his world, there'd be no going back. I understood this better than anyone.

"I've been well trained, my Lord," I said. Braska chuckled, looking me over. The finely toned lines of my warrior's body must have been convincing evidence of my claim.

"That I can see. And do those muscles have a name, by any chance?"

"Auron," I replied, trying to give off an air of confidence. "Please allow me this chance, if I may, to prove myself to you." The little girl shifted her weight from one leg to another.

"Very well, Auron. But if I may ask, why? Certainly other summoners have come here in search of guardians."

I was not about to tell him that he had been the only one. Other summoners chose guardians that were close to them for their protectors. But this summoner had no one, just as I had no one, and so would his daughter have no one when he was gone. We were similar, Braska, his daughter and I. We were dispensable to Spira. I shook my head.

"My Lord, I'm not even sure of it myself," I lied. I would have enough lies later, but this was only the beginning. "I was drawn towards you, my Lord. You and your daughter."

When I mentioned her, Braska placed his hand on her head again in a loving manner, and she reached up to touch her own tiny hand to his. She looked up towards me with her mismatched eyes, pondering me. I must have seemed gigantic to her.

"This is my daughter, Yuna. But as I'm sure you've heard me say, I cannot go on without finding a place for her where she will be safe from harm."

He looked down at her, his eyes glazing over. Perhaps he was imagining it, . . . leaving her, never to see her again. Never to look upon her grown, never having grandchildren upon his knee. His love for her radiated through him, so infectious that I was moved by it, just as I had been moved by her as she stood in the midst of Yevon, facing her fate. I knew it was time to face mine.

"Allow me to speak with Maester Mika," I said. "I don't need much time. If we stay here tonight, I can gather my things and we can leave tomorrow. I can help you find a place for her," I looked to her, then back to Braska. "But Sin will not wait, my Lord. And neither should we. We must begin as soon as possible."

Braska put a finger to his chin, deep in thought. He glanced into my eyes, and I could tell that he didn't seem to find the situation disagreeable. I knew my words must have struck a chord within him somewhere. After a while he spoke.

"Very well, Auron. You make a sound argument. I fear I cannot protect Yuna alone, and one summoner doesn't have much of a chance of defeating Sin without guardians."

Braska glanced at his daughter, as if waiting for her judgment. But she was only staring at me then, her eyes boring a hole right through me. I did not back down. I leaned over and pressed my hand against her chubby cheek. She gave a little giggle.

"If I may," I said, my attention returning to him. "We should return to Bevelle, where I can speak with Lord Mika. I must ask you to wait in there one more day," I told them. Braska merely nodded.

I hurried as quickly as I could to arrange an audience with Mika. It did not last long. After all, the sooner the summoner had a guardian, the sooner he could forfeit his life fighting Sin. Mika could almost taste the Calm.

The last night I spent in Bevelle as a soldier I spent with Kinoc in his quarters. No one else there would care if I left. In fact, they would congratulate me, if anything. _I might even become a legend_, they would say. If they only knew what was to come.

"Auron, a guardian. I never would have guessed," Kinoc jested. "And what about the summoner, this Braska?"

"What about him?" I asked.

"Well, why him? With your skills, you could have become guardian to any summoner you wanted." Kinoc and I shared a sort of friendly rivalry when I came to our skills, and I knew that he was jealous of me.

"It doesn't matter. I wanted it, that was all. He needed me more than the others. There's not much else to say," I explained. Kinoc slapped me across the shoulder, laughing aloud.

"Ha, you know what, Auron? You're a lot softer than you let on. I bet you took one look at that helpless daughter of his and fell to pieces."

"She's stronger than you think, Kinoc," I retorted. "She didn't seem as if she needed protection. But her father won't go on until she's safe." But was anyone really safe from Sin?

"All right Auron, I believe you. But I have to tell you, it's a lot harsher out there than in here. Fiends are everywhere these days. Too much death," he took a drink from a bottle of beer we shared. "Not even the priests can pray hard enough to keep you safe."

I didn't care. I didn't need the priests of Yevon to pray for me. So far prayers had done nothing. The only way forward was to fight.

"Fiends aren't the problem, Kinoc. It's Spira. They think that as long as they have summoners to throw away, that they'll be happy. But what happens when there are no more summoners left?"

Kinoc did not reply. Silence pervaded the room for a long while. Taking the bottle from him, I tasted the liquid inside. It burned my throat.

"How can you drink this?" I asked him. "It tastes like urine."

Kinoc and I laughed a lot that night, but in the morning I set off to leave him. I left him, and I left Bevelle. Even as I stood by Braska, I did not look behind me. Braska was my life now. He was my reason to become strong. For him, I would have to face an army of fiends. But I was not afraid. If anything, I felt refreshed. I'd found my purpose at last.

As we walked towards the outskirts of the city, I noticed that Braska's daughter had become less intimidated by me. He must have explained to her who I was, and that it was my duty to protect her and her father from harm. She walked between Braska and myself, skipping from time to time as children do.

Braska, however, was relatively quiet. It was as if he didn't wish to burden the journey with small details. That was fine with me. I didn't have much to tell him even if he asked. But I knew he would ask someday. Yuna, however, broke the silence by asking me a question.

"Sir Auron," she began, her cheeks a pale crimson. I looked down at her. "Do you,. . . do you like blitzball?"

I thought it was a strange question to ask someone like me, but she continued to stare at me until I replied. "I've never really cared much for it," I admitted.

The girl frowned a bit. "Well, I looooove it!" she cried, turning around in circles.

Braska leaned over and whispered: "She wants to be a blitzball player."

"Yeah! Or a summoner! A summoner like you, daddy!" she interjected.

"A noble vocation," I said to her. She seemed puzzled.

"Vocation?" she asked me. Braska chuckled.

"He means those are good things to be." She smiled back at him as he told her this. Yes, they were quite a team.

However, this reprise didn't last. It was not long before I heard footsteps of a warrior - a sound so familiar to me - approaching us at lightning speed. Normally I would have ignored it, but our procession halted as I heard someone call out my name. It was Kinoc.

"Auron, . . . you have to, . . . come back," he started explaining inbetween gasps. It seemed urgent. "Kinoc! Why, what's happened?"

"We caught a prisoner just now. He's in the cells back in Bevelle. A real lunatic."

I raised my eyebrow. I didn't understand him. We captured prisoners all the time in Bevelle. Mainly heretics or Al Bhed.

"Well, I figured you'd be interested in this one," Kinoc told me. "He seems like an outsider from the way he's dressed. He says. . . he says he's from Zanarkand."


End file.
